Chapter 248

Grand King Daemonikai

Nothing could transform a tremendously exhausting day into something breathtakingly beautiful quite like good news. Emeriel was awake—hale and hearty. He stood before her chamber doors. A subtle shake of his head dismissed the servants who moved to announce his presence. This was a moment he wanted to enjoy alone. Quietly, he opened the door and slipped inside. The soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm glow.

Emeriel was bent over, sorting through her closet, her back to him. Daemonikai leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Gone were the formal, elegant garments of a princess. Clad in simple white nightwear, her figure was accentuated in a way that struck him deeply. She was breathtaking, with curves rivaling the finest sculptures. His eyes followed her as she shifted, her form presented to him like an invitation. Arousal surged within him, greedy and possessive.

He imagined himself taking hold of her, squeezing and spanking her. He could almost hear the sounds she’d make as he held her, making love to her, watching her body move. Daemonikai clenched his jaw. He wanted to make love to her, to see her unravel under him, their desires pure and unclouded. He wanted to undo her, watch her fall apart, and piece her back together; to see the emotions she always hid shatter under his touch, until she sang for him like a water nymph, as he brought her from one orgasm to the next. His arousal was intense. But control was an advantage of being an ancient being like him. He glared at his straining member. Not yet, boy. No action for a long, long time. No matter how long it takes to win her back, to earn her trust, we wait. If it takes a decade, so be it.

“Your Grace!”

The gasp snapped his head up. Emeriel was already facing him, her hand flying to her chest. “You scared me.”

“I’m your Beloved, Riel. Not Your Grace. I am everyone else’s Majesty, but to you, I only want to be your male.” He smiled, tired yet genuine. “I apologize, dearling. I was merely enjoying the view,” he said in a velvety tone, his gaze roaming over her. A faint blush spread across her cheeks. He hadn’t seen that in so long. His beast, however, had seen many more.

“Mate. Mine.” “I know, Beast. Ours.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, he strode further into the room. “How do you feel?” “Much better,” she said, hesitating, her eyes scanning him. “And you?” “I feel splendid.” Seeing her alive and well breathed new strength into him. Her steps were tentative as she closed the distance, her delicate fingers reaching out to touch his arm. “May I?” “You never need to ask, Riel,” he drawled. “Touch me whenever, however you wish.” Her cheeks colored again, his subtle double meaning not lost on her. Silently, she removed his cloak, folding it neatly, before turning her attention to his arm, her eyes on the dark trails of blackened blood. “How is it?” “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” he said reassuringly. “My soul is healing, and with it, the symptoms are fading.” Her hand trailed along the faint marks. “Yes, they are not as black or as many as they used to be,” she murmured. “I remember when I first saw them… It was terrifying.”

I have nothing left to give you, she had told him that day in the woods. Yet, watching her now, Daemonikai still didn’t believe it.

“It’s cleared from your wrist,” she whispered, completely focused. “The trail is shortening. It truly is healing.”

Reaching out, he tucked the silky strands of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ears. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Her hand stilled. Slowly, she looked up, her luminous eyes meeting his. “For returning, even when you were still hurting,” he continued, his voice heavy with meaning, “Thank you for being here. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine, too.” Her hand rested lightly on his chest. “But why would you do something so dangerous? Drawing the poison into yourself?”

“I’ve done many dangerous things in my lifetime, Emeriel,” he gave a faint smile. “So many, in fact, that if you became a bard and wrote them all down, you’d need an entire library to store the tales. But this? This was not one of them.”

Her head dipped, and he saw her throat tighten as she swallowed. “But you shouldn’t have—”

Gently, he tipped her chin up, his gaze locking onto hers. “I would do it again. Over and over. If you walked out there and caught ten poisoned arrows, I would suck every single venom from your body and into mine, even if it meant my death.”

Her breath shuddered out, eyes shining with unshed tears. “But why?” “I think you already know why.” “No, I don’t.” Voice breaking, she stepped back, her hand falling. “I don’t know, I c-can’t. I can’t.”